


Sweet Dreams

by turntechRavager



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 04:11:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11866428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turntechRavager/pseuds/turntechRavager
Summary: During the waking hours, everyone only sees what Fran wants them to see. Nothing. But, in his sleep, at the mercy of his own mind, things aren't so easy.





	1. Chapter 1

The scene fades in, at first seeming simple enough. A small house in the middle of a forest. One, perhaps two bedrooms in it at the most. A child's laughter can be heard first thing, sweet and innocent in it's purest form. The view moves in closer, a stack of recently chopped firewood piled up in a sort of makeshift hut. The laughs are coming from within, but subside after only a minute. A few birds can be heard off in the distance before the little voice rises again, this time in a soft song.  
  
 _"London bridge is falling down  
Falling down, falling down~  
London bridge is falling down~  
My~ fair~ lady~  
  
Build it up with bricks and clay  
Bricks and clay, bricks and clay~  
Build it up with bricks and clay~  
My~ fair~ lady~"_  
  
The child's voice is cut off by a soft laugh, this time coming from a woman who steps out of the house. The child inside the pile of wood goes almost completely silent, aside from a quiet muffled giggle. The woman looks amused, but says nothing for the moment. The view moves in, closer to the woman rather than the hiding place of the child. A lean form, though obvious muscles can be noticed as she's only dressed in jean shorts and a sports bra. Straight black hair tied up in a tight high pony tail she has an axe casually slung over one shoulder as she observes the pile with amused emerald eyes.  _"Little ones shouldn't play about when there's chores to be done you know."_  
  
The view switches again, back over to the pile of chopped wood where a little green haired head peeks around the corner with a small smile in place. Another poorly muffled giggle as it ducks back in. The woman can be seen moving closer, a grin on her face.  _"You'd think a smart little boy would have picked a better hiding spot."_  
  
The playful grin is still on the woman's face as she flicks open a lighter. There's a squeak from within the mini-fortress and in seconds tiny arms are wrapped around her legs, innocent green eyes blinking up at her. The child, rather ambiguous looking, looks to be no older than three or four years old. A laugh comes from the woman as she reaches down to pat the little one on the head after putting the lighter away.  
  
  
The scene fades away like mist, a new one fading back in just as swiftly. It's the same little house, only this time it seems to be near sunset. All is silent for a few moments before that same woman's voice calls out, this time laced with annoyance and exasperation.  _"Son of a **bitch**! Dammit Fran! What did I tell you?!"_  
  
The birds in the trees near by flee at the sheer volume of it, and all is silent once again. Though it does not last long as that same voices raise once more.  _"Don't give me that 'yes Mama' crap! You're old enough to understand things like this! I swear to **God**  any more of your little pranks and you'll be catching your own food for the next  **month**!"_  
  
Once more, silence reigns. The view pans around the house, two silhouettes can be seen through the window. One of a small child and the other is the woman storming off. A slam of a door, then silence. It's brief, oh so brief. Already the silhouette of the child can be seen slowly backing away despite being all alone in the room. Another second before-  
  
 _ **"FRAN!!!**_  
  
The door to the little house slams open as the child, now appearing to be at least eight years old, sprints out into the woods at full speed, laughing all the way even as loud obscenities continue coming from within the house.  
  
  
  
The images fade away, and just as last time fade back just as quickly. This time the view is from inside the little house, the full moon outside bright enough to light up the entire living room. The child looks about the same age as before, the slightly longer hair the only sign of time passed. He's on a couch, curled half way in the woman's lap looking to be on the borderline between waking and dreams. The woman has a hand protectively over the child's back while her other hand holds a book she's reading by the moonlight. The child looks about to fall asleep before his highly amused little voice speaks up.  _"You know Mama, you're gonna go blind if you read in the dark. It's not good for your eyes. You'll have to wear really ugly glasses as a wrinkly old lady."_  
  
The book is closed very slowly before it smacks down on the child's head, a whining noise from the boy the only response as that scene fades out again.  
  
  
For a moment, everything stays pitch black.  
  
A scream laced with pain and agony snaps through the silence this time. It goes on, and then is cut off by a strangled gurgling sound.  
  
The scene fades in on the boy's face, he looks to be ten or eleven at this point. Teal eyes wide with shock, blood dripping slowly from matching strands of hair and down the side of his face. A tiny violently shaking hand raises to his cheek, following the trail of blood down his neck until it soaks into his shirt. The view zooms out, showing the woman's body, now a corpse, laying across the boy's legs. There's several cuts littering her arms and torso, some shallow while others run deep and bleed out onto the ground. Her legs are mostly free from the red liquid save for a single gash along the back of one knee. The most noticeable part, the part that finally silenced her scream, is the wide opening of her neck that's slashed almost all the way through. Most likely the cause of all the blood on the boy, and the blood still falling to the ground around him in a pool.  
  
A shadow falls over the child, he looks up at the figure slowly as he tries to sink back into the area that was obviously once a sealed hall closet. The shadow stops moving, and a casual chuckle fills the area. It's a man's voice, smooth as silk as he simply takes a moment to laugh.  _"Such a pathetic runt. I don't see the resemblance at all. The bitch put up one hell of a fight, she was fun to play with. If it wasn't for a lucky shot she might have actually won. You? You're nothing kid. Killing you now would just be like kicking a damn puppy. And while that's all fun and good, I'd prefer to keep as many major crimes off my record as possible. Too bad your mommy there isn't as cowardly as you. I would have just taken what I wanted and left in peace. But no, the bitch had to put up a fight and got what she deserved."_  
  
There's a swish of air as an ax is thrown, covered in fresh blood it embeds in the wall near the child's head and the man laughs again before the scene fades into nothing.  
  
  
This time when another scene flashes by it's a busy city street, obviously during rush hour by all the hustle and bustle going around. The same boy, now about thirteen or fourteen, is strolling amongst the crowd with his hands in his pockets. Jean shorts and a casual tank top, he seems relatively comfortable as he smiles and quietly hums a tune to himself. He seems to survey his surroundings in passing fancy before his eyes fall on a rather rich looking businessman pacing in front of a building, every now and then checking the time on his cell phone. The boy walks up to him and puts on a sweet smile.  _"Mister, I'm lost. And I need a phone. I can use yours, can't I? Cause I don't have money for a payphone. Mama must be worried by now."_  
  
The scene flickers, the boy standing in an alley now. The businessman from before is laying dead as his feet as the boy goes through his pockets and wallet.  _"Ah. Only credit cards. These are no good. Oh well. I'll just have to pay more attention next time."_  
  
Slipping his hands back into his pockets just as casually as before, the boy walks off like nothing happened.


	2. Chapter 2

Consistency. Things are always the same. Day after day, each night, each mission, nothing ever changes. Humans are predictable like that. Boring. None of them really worth any time. Even  _him_. But at the same time, that same boring old consistency... it's comforting. More so than he had ever realized. He likes knowing what's going to happen, likes knowing what there is to look forward to. Even if the only thing to look forward to is more pain, more abuse and more banter. It's still something. It's still consistent, something he can actually count on day after day.  
  
 _"Bel-senpai. Can you stop throwing knives at my back? It's not going to make you any less bored."  
  
" **Shishishi** ~ A prince is not to be questioned by a stupid uncute kohai."  
  
"Ah. Good thing you're just a fallen prince then. Otherwise I'd have some problems."  
  
"You little son of a-"_  
  
Always the same. Never changing. Comforting in it's own odd way.  
  
 _" **VOOOIII**! Fran! Where the fuck is the brat prince!?"  
  
"Ah? I don't know. Not my problem taichou. Go ask Levi-san. I'm busy."  
  
"What the hell could  **you**  be busy with?"  
  
"Secret. Not something you'd be interested in."  
  
"Tch. Fucking useless brat."_  
  
Day in, day out. Always the same. He doesn't know when it started, when it became so familiar to him. But piece by piece he knows he's starting to crave it. More than anything almost.  
  
 _"Fran-honey, can you go tell Bel dinner's almost ready?"  
  
"Ah? Why do I have to? The Fake Prince has a creepy room to go with his creepy personality. I don't want to go there."  
  
"Oh~ Don't be like that. I'll give you some ice cream later and Bel can't have any, okay?"  
  
"...Kay."_  
  
 **Home.**  A family. Something he never even imagined he'd ever attain. And yet, here it is. Screwed up beyond all reason and abusive, but it's here nonetheless. Consistent, trusted to keep to their habits. Same thing, day after day. Each one just as interesting, just as boring, as the day before. But the comfort, the almost pleasantness of it all. It makes it all worth it. Just maybe. Maybe once, it'll be okay again.  
  
 _"Hey Senpai?"_  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Maifa Land. I've never been there. We should get taichou to take us sometime soon."  
  
" **Shishishi** ~ For once I'd have to agree with the little Froggy~"  
  
Sometimes, things aren't really that bad. Safe, comforting, consistent. A family he never thought he'd have again. Even if it isn't real.  
  
  
-  
  
Fran's eyes flutter a bit as he wakes up slowly, a sleepy look over his face. For a few fleeting moments, bits of emotion can almost be seen there before his mask is carefully in place. Another dream, another day.


	3. Chapter 3

The scene fades in to show a boy, Fran, sitting by himself in a room. The silence is almost overwhelming, making him feel uneasy. But he doesn't show it, his expression just as bored and emotionless as always, a perfect unreadable mask. The silence is broken by a noise, the sound of a soft breeze. Blank eyes look up to see another figure there, a baby. Fran blinks and stares, certain he must be seeing things as it's the same baby that's supposed to be dead. Another figure appears next to it, one he's more familiar with.  
  
 _"...Senpai?"  
  
"Shishishi... Mammon's back, it's time for the froggy to leave~"_  
  
Fran can feel his chest tightening, feel a dread that has always been there rising. He knows... he isn't as good. He's never been as good. The feeling is almost overwhelming but still he keeps his mask firmly in place.  _"Leave?"_  
  
Surely at least he'll be allowed to still be part of Varia though, even if not an officer...  
  
 _"Of course~ A stupid little brat pulled off the streets has no right to work in the mafia where he's not needed~ Worthless **replacements**  are only temporary after all."_  
  
His whole body feels numb as he turns to leave, leave the only place he has ever considered  _home_  since being out on his own. The only ones who, despite all their obvious flaws and abuse, he has considered family.  
  
But he had always known better. Nothing is as it seems after all. He isn't needed any longer, wasn't ever needed really. He was a placeholder, nothing more. Just a stand in that no matter what he did or how hard he tried, would  _never_  be half as good as Mammon.  
  
  
The scene fades away, a new one coming into focus. Fran's standing there on the streets, leaning back against a wall. His Varia uniform is gone, leaving him only in a pair of thin jeans and a tanktop despite the snow falling around him. His expression is almost the same, just something  _off_  about his mask. It's still there though, still a show of strength and indifference.  
  
Mukuro is there suddenly, standing in front of him with his usual smile. Behind him stands Chrome and off to the sides are Ken, Chikusa and even M.M. They stare at him for a few moments before turning to walk away. Fran pushes away from the wall and makes to follow them.  
  
He's stops though, having to back up to avoid the spikes that land where he was just standing. His gaze is almost questioning as he looks at all of them, to Chikusa who's retracting his yo-yo, M.M. and Chrome looking away, Ken glaring as usual, and Mukuro still smiling.  _"...Master?"  
  
"You've no longer a right to call me such, Fran. You are no longer my problem, leave us."_  
  
For a brief moment, he almost looks uncertain. But... he speaks up, his voice only faltering a slight bit.  _"But Master I-"_  
  
 _"Kufufu... Did you not hear me? I never intended on adopting a child, I have enough to take care of as is. You were merely the means to an end, an easily controlled toy to play with for a while. Nothing more than that."_  
  
By the time they disappear, Fran's body is almost visibly shaking. No. It isn't a surprise. The thought had crossed his mind as well. He isn't needed. No one needs him, no one cares. He knows he accepted this fact long ago, never intending on letting anyone get too close. They were all just going to leave him in the end anyway, so he has to hold himself up, stop himself from falling out of control. He shakes his head, regaining his composure as he turns and walks down the street. He was careless. He knows better than that, and now he has to hold onto himself because he was right all along. But it's okay, because he knows he's stronger than that. He doesn't  _need_  anyone. Doesn't need to be needed. Or wanted. His home is gone, and he has always known that he's never going to find a new one... At least... that's what he thought.  
  
  
Again the scene fades away, refocusing on Fran walking down a forest pathway. Varia... Kokuyo... They didn't matter, right? It wasn't as if he was alone now... There was still something, still some _one_  to hold onto, if only fleeting. As he looks up, he sees him standing there at the end of the path, back facing him. Unsettled by the feelings of abandonment, feelings of being thrown aside like the street rat he was, he speeds up his pace until he's close enough to reach out.  
  
And he does, his hand moving forward to take hold of a bit of black fabric.  _"Hibari-san..."_  
  
Before he even has room to say anything else, there's a flash of silver, a burning pain as his back collides with the ground. He blinks, forcing himself not to show anything, not to give anything away in his expression, as he raises his hand to rest against the burning pain on his cheek where the metal made contact.  _"Don't touch me, herbivore."_  
  
It isn't the words that hurt him, isn't the violence. Those things he's used to. It's that sharp tone and the icy glare that accompany them, the same look that would be directed at Mukuro himself but somehow even darker than that. Before Fran even has the chance to say anything else, Hibari speaks with even more venom than before.  _"It's over, I'm not playing games with you anymore. You're just a waste of my time. I'm tired of your constant clinging and neediness, it's annoying. A **dream**  isn't worth this much trouble. I humored you for a while but now I'm done. Stay out of my sight."_  
  
  
And just like the others, Hibari faded away. Fran could feel himself shaking, his chest almost heaving with uneven breaths. His mind was saying everything for him at once, everything he had feared. He had told himself it wasn't real, that it was just a spur of the moment thing... But he had actually fallen into that abyss without meaning to, trying to stop it before it got too far... But he thought it was going to be okay... he had thought-  
  
 _"That he actually **cared**  for you?"_  
  
Fran's eyes widen, his mask shatters at the simple sound of that voice. Slowly his head turns to look up and there she is, the woman standing there with her long black hair tied up in a tight ponytail and cold emerald eyes staring down at him. The smile on her face looks unnatural... Unsettling.  
  
 _"Such a foolish boy, I always knew you'd be useless in the end. Don't you get it yet, little one? No one cares, no one will **ever**  care. You're not worth it, don't you see? No emotions, no reactions and that cheeky little smartass mouth of yours. Who in their right mind would want someone like you around? You don't look like a boy, don't look like a girl. Don't even look like a proper  **adult**  despite your age. Face it little one, you're simply worthless. There's no good qualities about you, nothing to redeem all your many faults. You'll never have a place to call home again, never have anyone to go to when you're lost."_  
  
As she speaks the woman circles around him, like a vulture waiting to swoop in on it's prey. Each word cuts into him sharper than any blade he has ever felt. It's true. He knows it's true, he had always known. But to hear the words being spoken by his own  _Mother_... He can't take it. His mask which he had taken so much time in building up is shattered. His eyes burning, a foreign feeling to him, the tears gathering before falling down his face one after another as he brings his arms around himself.  
  
 _"Little one, you should know better than that by now. Showing weakness only gets you hurt, remember? Isn't that why you made that mask of yours in the first place? You're so pathetic, Fran. But you already know that, don't you? Come here, Mama will make it better."_  
  
Without a word Fran pulls himself to his feet, shaking slight while trying to keep himself stable. His eyes are blank, more empty than his usual deadpanned as he wordlessly follows the command and goes into the woman's embrace. He wraps his arms around her waist, his face buried against her shoulder. It doesn't even occur to him it's impossible, the dead can't come back. Mammon had come back after all, so it isn't that unbelievable in the end.  
  
But then he feels it, the sharp pain in his stomach and the copper in his mouth. He coughs, choking on his own blood as he stumbles back away from her. A hand slowly rises to press against his stomach, the gash deep enough for it to sink in at the pressure. He can't hold the blood back, his hands not big enough to stop the flow. He coughs again, blood splattering the ground as he slowly forces himself to look up at her, the tears now mingling with the blood.   
  
She stands there, that unnerving smile still in place as she tosses aside the blood stained ax.  _"Didn't I tell you little one? No one cares about you. No one wants you. Why would you think to come to me when you should know better? See, this is exactly what's going to get you killed. You should never let yourself get so close to someone, never let your guard down like that. You're a fool little one, and now you finally end up where you belong."_  
  
She turns and disappears as Fran falls to his hands and knees, no longer able to support himself. He's alone, not even the animals can be heard in the forest around him. The only sound is the dripping of blood from his stomach and the choked sobs as the liquid rising in his throat makes it hard to breathe. He knows... he shouldn't be surprised things would end this way. It's his own fault, he did this to himself. He was careless, and let himself believe.  
  
His last thought before his arms give out under him and the world around him fades into nothingness that it's true. He really is just a worthless fool.  
  
\-----  
  
Fran curls around himself in bed, his arms wrapped around his stomach. Tears can be seen staining his face as his body shakes. He still hasn't woken up yet. Or he has, and is too unsettled to even bother opening his eyes yet as his breath comes in short gasps.


	4. Chapter 4

Everything has a plan, everything has a certain pattern and design. You've always known how to decipher it, how to read into things and see what's truly there. But at the same time, you keep yourself an enigma, never allowing anyone to see passed the flawless mask you've made for yourself over the years. Seeing and judging others, deciding what traits were worthless and what actions and reactions caused things and got people's attention. A mask, a shield to protect you from the world. Your last line of defense, knowing the world rests on basic actions and reactions. With fewer reactions, there will be fewer actions. It's as simple as that.  
  
But, life's not always simple. Before you realize it you're standing on the edge of a cliff, the sun slowly rising behind you to light up the clouds on the horizon. It's so tempting, to simply give in. You think you know what you're doing, that you have complete control over the situation at hand. You hesitate for only a moment before letting yourself fall. Not jumped, for you would never allow yourself to do something so reckless. But as the rock at the edge begins to crumble, you don't make any move to stop it from letting you slip into the pit below.  
  
The surroundings fade and twist, no longer from a cliff but now a dark tunnel you're falling into. And yet there's a light, the clouds in the sky above is still visible and you focus on that, confident in your abilities to stay strong. It's a game to you, to see how far you can go. Along the way pieces of the mask are strategically set aside, carefully placed where they can be picked up and pieced back together flawlessly in an instant. You're not afraid as you fall deeper and deeper into the abyss, because you know there's a ladder there and you can easily climb back out whenever you wish.   
  
The deeper you fall, the less confident you become. You can't even remember when you fell from the cliff anymore, can't understand why you let it happen. But you're not worried, the light from the sky is still there and you can still see the clouds carelessly drifting by above. Somehow, that convinces you despite everything you've believed in before that it's going to be okay. It becomes normal to you, almost relaxing even once you stop worrying about it. But then, the sky starts to darken above, the sun finally setting.  
  
Before you realize it your body impacts harshly with the ground, the shock from it causing you to lose all your focus. When you try to gather your wits and look up, the clouds are gone and the sky is dark. The ladder is gone and those pieces you had so strategically set aside before are now shattered on the ground around you like shards of broken glass digging into your hands. The light feeling you felt while falling is gone, replaced by a cold emptiness that seems to make itself at home.  
  
Your gaze falls from the now dark and empty sky to what remains of your mask, the cold emptiness turning into a dull throb from the impact of how you landed. As you slowly begin to pick the pieces up, you're not surprised. You knew this would happen from the moment before you let yourself fall from the cliff, and you know that there's really no one to blame for this but yourself. You can't let it happen again.   
  
You put the shards back together, stronger this time, and swear you won't set them aside again.  
  
\-----  
  
Fran's eyes blink open slowly, for a few minutes all he does is stare at the ceiling above him. He stays like that, motionless, expressionless, before he finally pushes himself out of bed and once more goes about his normal routine. 


End file.
